


like titanium in your jaw

by stephanericher



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 05:19:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19056013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: A hot cup of coffee, a good book, the morning sun over the ocean view, and the cool salty air--it doesn't get much better than this.





	like titanium in your jaw

**Author's Note:**

> i've put shuu through so much in this universe so he deserves a vacation

Shuuzou lowers his reading glasses onto his face, sinking back in the splintery deck chair. It's not quite so uncomfortable when you put a spare beach towel over the wood, and adding that to a hot cup of coffee, a good book, the morning sun over the ocean view, and the cool salty air--well, it doesn't get much better than this. 

He takes a sip of coffee and cracks open the book to where he'd dog-eared the page (a bad habit picked up from Tatsuya). The fictional cosmonauts are in the middle of an argument over how to best fix a fuel leak, and time is winding down. Someone else's anxieties always feel safer than his own.

A cardinal chirps somewhere behind him, probably on the other side of the beach house. Shuuzou turns the page and takes another sip of coffee. The argumebt devolves into a blame game, the protagonist taking his love interest's side. That'll come back to bite him.

The door to the deck slides open, and Shuuzou looks up. Tatsuya looks fresh from the shower, hair still ripping onto his t-shirt. (Shuuzou's Dartmouth hockey t-shirt that he'd thought he'd forgotten to pack, which, hey, rude, but of course the faded green looks good on Tatsuya.) 

"Morning, Shuu."

"Good morning."

The chair Shuuzou's sitting in has another chair attached to it with a shared armrest; Tatsuya ignores it and nestles himself in Shuuzou's lap. He smells like soap and generic shaving cream and coffee; Shuuzou closes his eyes. He puts his book down on the armrest o he can hold Tatsuya closer, and Tatsuya sighs softly but audibly.

"Your knee okay?" says Shuuzou.

"Yeah."

The scars, half-faded from a long ago surgery, stand out against Tatsuya's tanned leg. His knee had been giving him some trouble at the end of the season, though Tatsuya had tried to play it off as fatigue and an increased number of minutes. He's been staying off it, though; when they're on vacation, convincing him to sleep a little longer in bed or on the beach, or to stay inside and read or watch television is pretty fucking easy.

Shuuzou kisses Tatsuya's neck, and Tatsuya shifts to kiss the top of Shuuzou's head, then his mouth. His lips are soft, warm; Shuuzou holds him closer. Tatsuya runs his tongue over Shuuzou's new fake teeth in the bottom row, a slightly different shape than his real ones. 

"Can't get enough of my new teeth, huh?"

"You were cute without them, too," says Tatsuya.

The high-stick that knocked them out of his mouth hadn't been cute, but Shuuzou isn't one to turn down a compliment. He kisses Tatsuya again, thumb scraping the inside of Tatsuya's elbow. This position won't be comfortable for too much longer.

"Want to take this indoors?" says Shuuzou.

"Just what are you implying?" says Tatsuya, mock-scandalized.

"That I want you to fuck me."

"Gonna ask nicely?"

"Please," says Shuuzou, planting a kiss on Tatsuya's cheek. 

Tatsuya's breath hitches, and Shuuxou feels very pleased with himself.

He leaves the book on the deck, following Tatsuya indoors so he can grab his ass before the door closes behind him.

* * *

They walk to the mini golf course in the late afternoon, carrying glasses of iced tea in theur hands almost like lost frat boys. The area is deserted; it's early in the season and it could be closed (at least they will have gottwn a nice walk out of it).

The desk is staffed by a college-aged young woman who doesn't look too happy to be doing her job. They have free run of the place, though, just them and the crackle of ten years ago's hits on the radio. It's not real golf, but Shuuzou couldn't handle eighteen holes today.

Apparently, he can't handle the windmill either. Tatsuya's been keeping up with him the whole way, and he times his shot through the revolving segments perfectly on the second try. Shuuzou's shot comes right back to him his first time, and on the second it bounces off the top of the windmill and off to the side. The third is the same as the second. Shuuzou swears.

"Need help?" says Tatsuya. 

"I'm good," says Shuuzou.

His next shot is placed perfectly, slow and steady, but too slow. It rolls back down to him before it even reaches the windmill.

The more he misses, the more frustrated he gets, but the more frustrated he is the worse he plays. It takes him eleven swings to finally get the damn ball through the windmill and to the other side. Tatsuya's definitely winning now.

* * *

"I can't believe I beat you at something golf-adjacent," says Tatsuya as they walk back after dinner.

"You don't have to be so smug about it," Shuuzou grumbles.

"Yes I do," says Tatsuya. "You owe me dessert."

"Yeah, yeah," says Shuuzou.

Tatsuya's still smiling at him, not in a mean way although he's still obviously self-satisfied. The sun is setting over the houses on the other side of the island. It doesn't feel that late, though that's at least in part due to the long and enjoyable after-sex nap they'd had.

Tatsuya's walking okay, but Shuuzou sits down on the bench outside of the ice cream parlor. It's much newer and less rain splintered than the deck furniture back at the beach house, but that's less about pleasing customers. Tatsuya's pistachio cone is melting onto his hand. A drop of artificial green falls, and Shuuzou catches it with a napkin before it splatters on the leg of Tatsuya's shorts.

"What a gentleman," Tatsuya says.

"It's my turn to do the wash next," Says Shuuzou.

Tatsuya smiles and then licks the ice cream off the back of his hand. 

"Gross," says Shuuzou.

"You want some?"

Shuuzou leans over, half-expecting Tatsuya to yank the ice cream away at the last minute so it ends up on his nose and forehead. He doesn't; the ice cream is pleasant but Shuuzou's glad he'd stuck with strawberry.

They're alone, away from the glow of the store window. Shuuzou doesn't have to move too far to kiss Tatsuya.


End file.
